


On the Job

by mywritingsaboutwrestlers



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Captain!Reader, Dean was off for a traumatic event adn is back now, Detective!Dean Ambrose, Evil!AJ Styles, Evil!Baron Corbin, Evil!Karl Anderson, Evil!Luke Gallows, F/M, Feels, Smut, lightly based off 12 Rounds 3:Lockdown, woohoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 21:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16731315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywritingsaboutwrestlers/pseuds/mywritingsaboutwrestlers
Summary: Dean has been on leave after a traumatic experience. He arrives back at the precinct to find the Captain needs his help: there are dirty cops in their precinct and Dean is the only man she trusts in helping find out who it is. Those dirty cops find out what's going on and lockdown the station with just them, Dean, and the captain inside.





	On the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best fic ever, but it had to be done.

           He was back, goddammit he was finally back at the precinct, walking through the sliding doors with a bit more swagger in his step, but that swagger dissipated the moment he saw the other officers as they stared at him. After the accident, a lot of them didn’t trust him, all refusing to be his partner while he had been in therapy, and now that he was back, he had a feeling he would be solo until someone showed up that was new. He headed upstairs to his department, knowing full well he wasn’t in for a warm welcome. He was right, walking upstairs only to have people glare at him. After the incident, where his rookie partner was killed, everyone steered clear of him. It isn’t until he’s at his desk that most everyone stops looking at him.

           “Look what the cat dragged in.”

           He rolled his eyes, looking over at the other detective.

           “I never thought you’d be back, Ambrose,” the other detective said.

           Dean shrugged. “Doctor cleared me to come back, man. I was getting antsy just sittin’ at home,” he replied.

           “Should’ve stayed gone.”

Dean glared at him. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready, Corbin.” Dean turned away quickly, a frown twisting his face. He sat at his desk for all of five minutes before he got bored, thinking about going up to the captain’s office. He stood up, stretching his shoulders, hearing a loud pop in his left one. It did that ever since the incident, since he had gotten hurt and watched his partner die. It stuck with him, watching Ellsworth die. He may not have  _liked_  Ellsworth, but he didn’t want anyone to die. That’s why he had become a cop in the first place: to protect and serve just like his badge said. He frowned as his mind continued to spiral into hell.

           “You should wipe that frown off your face, Ambrose, it’s your first day back!”

———-

           Dean whipped around to look down at you, surprise on his face. His surprise was soon replaced with that dimpled smile of his as he realized it was you. “Hey, it’s good to see you.” He pulled you into a hug, smiling when you happily hugged him back.

           “It’s really good seeing you!” you said with a bright smile as you pulled away. “I’ve missed seeing you around! It’s so boring without you here.”

           Dean’s smile never faltered as he looked down at you. “It’s good to be back, darlin’.”

           “Is it good that he’s back?” Corbin interjected.

           “Shut it, Corbin,” you barked, crossing your arms. “He’s one of our absolute best and I wouldn’t want him anywhere else. Do you have a problem with that?”

           Baron curled his upper lip. “No, Captain.” He turned back to his desk.

           You turned your attention back to Dean. “Come up to my office in five minutes. We need to talk, privately.”

           Dean nodded. “I’ll be up.”

———-

           Dean watched her turn around and walk away, unable to keep his eyes from roaming over her. She looked as good as ever, still as commanding as she had always been. It made him smile, knowing she had his back, especially when it seemed no one else did. He looked around at the other detectives, but none of them were looking at him. Instead they had all stood and begun to applaud another detective that had entered. He peeked over his cubicle, only to roll his eyes at the detective that had walked in. Everyone, for some reason, loved Styles. It made him angry beyond belief. He had never,  _ever_ trusted Styles, always suspecting him of doing shady business in the police force.

           “I know, everyone, I took down a big bad drug trafficker,” Styles said with a cocky smile. “Just be happy that there’s one less dirty man on the streets.” He winked and did a finger gun at everyone as he started walking towards where Dean was gathering up a few things before heading up to the chief’s office. “Well, well, well, lookie who we have here! If it ain’t Dean fuckin’ Ambrose.”

           Dean glanced at him momentarily. “If it isn’t AJ Styles,” Dean replied dryly.

           “Glad to have you back, brother,” AJ said with a smile. “I’m surprised they cleared you for work.”

           Dean rolled his eyes. “So everyone seems to think. I gotta go. The captain is expecting me.”

           AJ immediately sneered at that. “She was always fond of you.”

           Ignoring him, Dean tucked his badge in his pants and walked away, heading for the elevator. He threw that around in his head a bit. ‘Fond of me,’ he thought. ‘Is she?’

           The elevator dinged when he reached the floor her office was on. He spotted her walking down the hallway towards her office, paperwork loaded into her arms. He jogged towards her, calling for her. She stopped and turned to him, smiling. “Hey, want to help me carry these to my office?” she asked, holding out her arms. He unloaded half from her arms, following her to her office. “Just set them on my desk and shut the door please.”

           He did as she asked, shutting the door with a quiet click. When he turned around, she was already sitting in her chair, a stressed look on her face as she scanned the paperwork in front of her. “You alright, Captain?”

           She nodded, sighing. “Could be better. Could be worse. But I had a reason for calling you up here.” Her eyes met his, wariness filling them. “You’re one of our best, there isn’t a single case you’ve been put on that you didn’t solve, and I know it’s your first day back, but I’ve got something that is taking priority right now, and you’re the only one I can trust with it.”

           Dean raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean?”

           She glanced at the window of her office door, standing up to lock it. She sat back down, clasping her hands. “There have been a few… incidents since you left, and I’ve been finding it very hard to trust anyone in the precinct.” Her eyes were worried as she looked at him. “I think we’ve got dirty cops in here, there’s too much going on, too many rules being broken, for there not to be dirty cops. The only unfortunate thing is, they’re smart. I have no evidence at the moment to arrest any of them, but evidence keeps going missing, tapes are being tampered with,  _evidence_  is being tampered with. I can’t pinpoint who is doing it, but I know it’s someone in this precinct with access to a lot of resources.”

           “Where do I fit into this?” Dean asked, his eyes glancing behind himself to look at the window of her office.

           “Dean… I trust you. You’ve never been wrong about something, you do things by the book, and you have always had results. You and I are friends outside of work, and I know that I can trust you with something like this.”

           He could only nod, narrowing his eyes. “You have any suspects yet?”

           “I do.” She got up again, this time to look out the window, seeing no one. She went back to kneel by Dean.

           He saw something in her eyes, something he had never seen before: fear. She was the most fearless person he knew, yet whoever she thought it was scared her and that made him realize that this was just as serious as she was making it out to be. “Who is it, darlin’?” he whispered.

           “Detective Styles.” She said it quietly, so quietly he almost couldn’t hear it.

           “I fucking knew it,” he mumbled.

           She raised an eyebrow at him. “What did you just say?”

           He stood up, running his hands over his face. “I always had a feeling he was dirty, but I never had anything to back it up.” She had gotten up, making him turn around and grab her by the shoulders. “Do you have any files that were tampered with from any case he was involved in, even one he played barely any role in?”

           She shook her head. “It’s all disappeared. I’m still in trouble for it from the chief. I’m walking on really thin ice, Dean. That’s why I want you on the job. You get results.”

           He frowned at that. “Why didn’t you call me?”

           “You were on medical leave and you needed to recover. I wasn’t about to put that on you after what happened.”

           Dean nodded. “You know, Styles just got back from finishing a case with a drug trafficker. Maybe we still have time to look at any evidence they found.”

           “You go down and get anything, alright? I have things here I need to go through. Bring anything you find straight back here, alright?”

           “You got it.” He went for the door, stopping with his hand on the knob. “You know, Captain,” he started, turning towards her for a moment. “I’m glad you trust me.” He exited the room, heading straight for the evidence locker. It took all of five minutes to get access to all of the evidence linked with the case Styles had just finished. “Hey, Bayley,” he said to the evidence officer.

           “Hey, Dean, it’s good to see you. What can I do for you?” she asked.

           He leaned forward a bit. “I need the most recent evidence you have from Detective Styles’ case.”

           “Sure! He need it for something?” She turned around to grab an evidence bag, a small credit card inside.

           Dean hated lying, but he needed to. “Uh, yeah, he wanted to check it out himself, ya know? He likes to be thorough.”

           Bayley smiled at him as she handed it to him. “He always does! Just sign right here really quick for me.”

           Dean scribbled his name, grabbing the bag, and then leaving, giving Bayley a small wave. He was on his way back up, tucking the evidence bag in his back pocket when he saw Styles, flanked by Corbin, Anderson, and Gallows. He tried to act as casual as possible as he walked by.

           “What are you doin’ down here, Ambrose?” Styles asked.

           “Just seeing how Bayley is doing. After she and Sasha had their falling out, I knew she would need a helpful hand every once in a while.” Dean moved passed them. “I’ll be on my way.” He walked down the hallway as quick as he could, pressing the button for the elevator, but as soon as Styles and the others were out of sight, he bolted for the stairs, running up them as quick as he could. He was halfway up the stairs when the fire alarm started going off. “Shit!” He ran faster, getting to the top floor where the captain was.

———-

           After fifteen minutes of Dean being gone, you began to worry. What if he was in on it? What if you had trusted the wrong man? You shook your head. You and Dean were practically best friends, and he had never been wrong about something. You trusted him for a reason. But you were really worrying now, wondering what was taking so long. Then the fire alarm starting going off, making you jump to your feet. You looked out the window to see people evacuating. You nearly screamed when your door was opened and slammed shut, a panicked looking Dean locking the door and dropping to the ground.

           “What’s going on, Dean?” you asked.

           He pressed his finger to his mouth, turning off the lights in your office and gesturing for you to go to where he was pressed against the door on the floor. “I think Styles knows we’re onto him.”

           Your eyes widened. “What makes you say that? We need to evacuate, Dean.”

           He shook his head, shutting his eyes when he heard the telltale signs of the building locking down. “Fuck, that’s not good.” He got on his knees, peeking out the window. “We need to move and get out of here.”

           Your radio went off on your belt.

           “ _Captain, this is Detective Styles. Ambrose has lost his damn mind and attacked me and three other officers. We’ve evacuated the building and are headed your way.”_

You lifted your radio to your mouth, eyes trained on Dean. “Copy that, Styles. Stay where you are, I’ll come to you.”

           “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean whisper-yelled.

           “I’m buying you time to figure out if that evidence pins him. Then you need to get out of here, alright?” You stood up, cracking your neck. “I’ll radio you once I’m alone and tell you where your best chance of getting out is.”

           Dean grabbed your wrist when you put your hand on the knob, standing up to tower over you. “Stay safe, darlin’. We don’t know what he’s up to.”

           You couldn’t help smiling at him. “I’ll be okay, I promise. There’s a spare radio in my desk, top left drawer. I’ll be on channel 4.” You left the room, closing it firmly behind you. You kept your hand on your gun, ready to pull it out at any second. You walked swiftly, eyes searching every doorway you passed until you saw Styles, Gallows, Anderson, and Corbin all heading your way.

           “Captain,” Styles started once you were close enough to whisper, “Ambrose has gone wild. He attacked me and these fine detectives. Do you have any idea as to where he might be?”

           You shook your head. “No, I have no idea. What do you mean by ‘attacked’?”

           “Well, Captain, he threw a punch at me, managed to get Gallows to the ground, and proceeded to pull his gun out and fire a shot at Anderson.” He was all business, but there was definitely something else in his eyes. “We need help finding him, Captain.”

           You nodded. “Well, I didn’t see him at all on my way to you. He could very well be on one of the floors below us. Why don’t we split up? Corbin and Styles, you two with me. Anderson, Gallows, you two take the first floor, we’ll take the second.” When the men nodded, you took a deep breath. This was going to become a very dangerous situation if you couldn’t keep these men from finding Dean. Not only would it be Dean’s life possibly on the line, but yours as well, especially if they found out you were helping him. You led Styles and Corbin downstairs, not liking them at your back, but knotting they wouldn’t lead. You pulled your gun from it’s holster, ready to shoot if needed. “Do you have any clue as to why he would attack you?”

           Corbin snorted behind you. “Of course I do. Man’s always been a live wire. He shouldn’t have ever been a cop, least of all a detective. I’m surprised you signed his recovery paperwork when the therapist gave the okay. Then again, he was always your favorite.” You felt Corbin get closer to you. “Maybe you’ll just let him get out of here.”

           You turned to face him, anger in your eyes. “Careful how you speak to me, Detective Corbin. Ambrose may have attacked you, but don’t forget: you have made more mistakes than any other in this department. Don’t make me suspend you for insubordination.”

           Corbin smirked still. “I knew you were fucking him.”

           Before you could speak, Styles stepped in front of you. “I’m sorry about Corbin, Captain. He’s been wound up since Ambrose attacked us. Would you be so kind as to let him off with a warning?”

           You nodded, not needing anymore conflict than the current situation you already had. “Just watch your mouth, Detective Corbin. Tensions are already high and we don’t need to make that any worse than it already is.” You turned back around as you took in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “You two, go ahead. I need to radio out to the fire department and tell them not to come. We don’t need this to be worse.”

           Both men nodded, going ahead of you with their guns drawn. You quickly grabbed your radio, flicking to channel 4. “Dean, how’s it going in there?”

           It was quiet for a few moments before he rang back.  _“You’re right, darlin’. He and his goons have ‘dirty’ written all over them. This file is full of evidence against them.”_

“Alright, I’ve got Anderson and Gallows on the first floor, and then I got Corbin and Styles on the second with me. I’ll draw Anderson and Gallows up here with a false sighting of you. Do you think you can get to the drill hall and get out through the back? You need to get that file to Internal Affairs.”

           A gun cocking behind you made you freeze. The end of it was pressed to the back of your head. “Drop your gun, Captain,” Styles drawled. “Drop it and hand over the radio.”

           You slowly set your gun down, fear tightening your throat.

            _“I think I can get there, Captain. Just keep them distracted for me, alright? Then you follow as quick as you can,”_ Dean radioed.

           Corbin yanked the radio from your hand. “You’re not going anywhere, Ambrose, and neither is she.” He was smirking down at you, cocky as ever. “You’re going to bring us the evidence, and you’re going to bring it now, or we will happily shoot the Captain.” He shoved his gun into the back of your head. “You’ve got five minutes to bring it to us, Ambrose, or you get to find the Captain with a bullet in her skull.” Corbin waited patiently, his smirk still in place.

            _“You fucking let her go right now! You guys are filthy, no good cops and you need to be taken down!”_ Dean screamed through the radio.

           Styles took the radio from Corbin, a smirk of his own on his face. “Look here, Ambrose, you’ve got two options: you bring us the evidence and we let the Captain go, or you keep on hiding, we kill her, and then when we find you we kill you too. Please, pick your poison.”

           It was quiet for a few seconds, the only sound you could really hear was the blood rushing to your ears. You took in your surroundings, eyeing the gun in Corbin’s hand as well as the one you had dropped which was within arms reach. You were quick, picking up your gun and whipping around, firing two shots. Corbin yelped in surprise while Styles jumped out of the way. You bolted as quick as you could, but another gunshot rang in the air, pain blossoming from your back to your stomach. You kept running, managing to get out of their sight and quickly up the stairs. You stumbled, dropping to our knees. Your shirt was wet with something, which you soon realized was blood. The bullet had gone through, but that didn’t stop you from almost panicking. You managed to stand up, tripping and stumbling as you heard heavy footsteps approaching you from the front. You raised your gun, eyes wild as you tried to focus on who was running towards you. Rough hands cupped your face, wild blue eyes looking at you.

           “Dean,” you whispered.

           He lifted you up, carrying you as quickly as he could back to your office. He kicked the door shut behind him before setting you on the floor, his eyes worried as his hands hovered over you. “Jesus, what the fuck?”

           “Styles and Corbin heard me on the radio talking to you.” You pressed your hand to your side, coming away with blood. “Fuck, I managed to get away, but one of them shot me.” You hissed in pain when he touched your side.

           He looked around the room, eyes falling on your jacket and the tape dispenser on your desk. He got up, grabbing both before coming back to you. “It’s alright for me to tear up your jacket, right?”

           You nodded, not caring about anything except making it out of everything alive.

           The sound of tearing cloth made you look at him. You noticed how in the darkness of your office, his eyes seemed almost bluer, if that was even possible. The line of his jaw was prominent in the weak light from the street lights outside, his stubble highlighted. “Can you unbutton your shirt, or should I do it?” You fumbled with your shirt, shaking your head when the buttons slid through your fingers. He gently moved your hands, unbuttoning the bottom of your shirt and untucking it from your pants. You hissed in pain, your head falling back to knock against the wall. He wrapped what used to be the sleeve of your jacket around your waist, using the tape from your dispenser to secure it around you, wrapping the tape around you several times. “Can we use the phones to contact someone on the outside?”

           You nodded, eyes growing heavy. You had lost more blood than expected. “Uh, you should… Call the chief.”

           Dean cupped your face. “Hey, stay with me, darlin’. It’ll be over soon and we can get out of here and get those assholes out of our precinct.” He looked around for a second. “Wait, didn’t they set off the fire alarm? Shouldn’t the fire department be here by now?”

           “Unless they called them off,” you mumbled. “But you should call the chief, Dean. He can send in the SWAT team.” You swallowed hard, black blurring the edge of your vision. “Shit, Dean, I’m fading fast. You need to call him now. We don’t have much time. They’ll find us in here, and we can’t afford that. We’ll both be dead at that point and then they can say it was you and I that were the dirty cops.” You coughed into your hand, tears building in your eyes when you saw blood splattered across your hand. “Dean, now.”

           He was reluctant to leave your side, but he quickly went to your desk, grabbing your cell phone. It was quiet for a few seconds, then Dean was frantically talking to the chief, telling him everything that had transpired. It took all of five minutes before sirens were finally heard in the distance. You relaxed a little, body slumping farther down the wall. Dean was by your side again, the phone still pressed to his cheek, but this time with his shoulder. He pressed one hand to your back and the other to your stomach, the pain worsening with the pressure. You groaned, tears sliding down your face. “I don’t know how long she can hold on for, Chief. She’s fading fast. I think they hit her in the lung. She’s coughing up blood and she’s bleeding a lot.”

           There was a lot of mumbling on the other end of the line. The sirens were all around at this point, flashing blue and red lights lighting up your office. The sound of breaking glass caught your attention, followed by gunshots. You sat up, whimpering at the pain you felt.

           “Hey, take it easy, darlin’,” he admonished softly. “They’re taking them down and we can get you to a hospital.” He tried to smile, but it fell the second your breathing became labored, your eyes fluttering as you tried to stay awake. “No, no no, darlin’, none of that.”

           “Dean, the file,” you mumbled. “You need to save the file right now. We can’t lose it or this will all be for nothing.” You tried sitting up, but fell back almost immediately. “Dean, now. We can’t lose it after all of this.”

           He nodded, going to your computer and pulling the flash drive from it, tucking it into his jeans.

           You smiled when he came back into your vision, tears having welled in his eyes. “You know, there’s something I never told you.” You reached up weakly, touching his stubbled cheek. “I’ve always liked you as more than a friend. I’m sorry it took so long for me to say something, but I never wanted to lose your friendship over something as stupid as my feelings.” Your words were beginning to slur together as you struggled to stay awake.

           Dean held your hand, squeezing it gently. “You couldn’t ruin anything with a declaration like that.” He sat down, ignoring the sounds of yelling from downstairs as he held your hand, grazing his mouth over your knuckles. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” He kissed your knuckles, smiling when he saw your wide-eyed expression. “I’ve felt like that for a long time.”

           You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Then I’m glad I got to hear that before…” Your eyelids dropped. “Before…”

———-

           Dean squeezed her hand, fear gripping him. He said her name a few times, growing more and more anxious as she didn’t answer. He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. No response. The door to the office was forced open, making him whip around with his gun drawn, only to lower it when he saw it was the SWAT team, led by none other than Roman Reigns.

           “Fuck,” Roman said. “We need EMTs  _now._ Officer down, I repeat officer down. The Captain has been shot.” Roman pointed towards them with his head. “You can all head back down. Styles, Corbin, Gallows, and Anderson have all been apprehended and are in custody.”

           Medics invaded the room, checking her and getting her loaded onto a gurney. They rushed her out to the ambulance, Ambrose close behind. “Is she going to be okay?” he asked, his voice oddly soft.

           Roman noticed, clapping his hand onto Dean’s shoulder gently. “She’ll be okay. She’s never been one to let a bullet stop her, I doubt she’ll start now.” He gave Dean a smile. “You should go with her in the ambulance.”

           “You think they’ll let me?” Dean asked as he got closer to the ambulance.

           “It’s now or never. She needs medical attention.”

           Dean hopped into the ambulance, watching as the EMTs kept her breathing and her heart pumping. She was dying before his eyes and it was breaking his heart. She couldn’t die now. She was too young, this wasn’t how she was supposed to die. He held her hand the whole way to the hospital. They wheeled her away once they got there, heading straight to surgery. He had to stay in a waiting room, pacing back and forth for hours. Roman showed up at hour three, Rollins in tow, catching Dean mumbling to himself and pulling at his hair.

           Roman approached him, clearing his throat. Dean whipped around, eyes panicked. “Easy, Ambrose, it’s just me.” Roman watched the other man relax a bit, but tension was still present in his shoulders. “Any news on her?”

           “No. I already gave my evidence to the chief. He wasn’t too happy that it was happening, but he feels worse that he never listened to the captain. Apparently, she’s been telling him about it for months now. He said he’ll stop by once she’s out of surgery.” Dean rubbed his hands over his face, blue eyes falling to the ground. “I shouldn’t have let her go on her own. She should’ve just stayed with me and we could’ve taken them on together.”

           “And then both of you could be in here or worse, and they wouldn’t have been caught.” Roman gave Dean a small smile. “She made a quick decision and if it weren’t for that decision, you could both be dead.” Roman gave him a pointed look. “She’ll be fine.”

           “I mean, she’s been shot before, hasn’t she?” Rollins piped in. “I mean, she’s a beast. A dirty cop won’t be the thing that takes her out of this world.”

           The reassurances from his friends made him smile. “True. She’s a tough one.”

           Roman noticed the softness in Dean’s eyes. Realization hit him like a train. “You love her, holy shit.”

           Dean’s eyes widened. “W-What? I Have no idea what you’re talking abou-“

           “Don’t try that with me, Ambrose. I saw that look in your eyes. “You’re in love with her. How long has that been a thing?”

           Dean scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man. It’s been a thing for a while, since before… Since before the incident.” He looked at Roman. “I never said anything to anyone about it because I didn’t want people to think she was showing me favoritism. There wasn’t anything I could so about it, but then… Today she let it slip that she loves me, at least, that’s what I hope she meant when she said what she said.” He looked at his hands.

           “Detective Ambrose?” someone said. A doctor was standing there, a soft smile on her face. “She’s out of surgery and is awake. She’s been asking for you.”

           Dean followed her as quick as he could, hot on her heels as she led him to a hospital room. His heart jumped to his throat when he saw the captain, a few machines hooked up to her, her skin pale, but she smiled when she saw him, her eyes bright. Dean awkwardly stood in the doorway, eyes looking at all of the machines around her. “Jesus, darlin’.”

           “Come sit by me, please?” she asked.

           He went to the chair by her bed, sitting in it, his back stiff as he looked at his hands.

———-

           You couldn’t help but smile softly when he wouldn’t look at you. “You know, you shouldn’t feel guilty about what happened. None of it was your fault.”

           Dean shook his head, finally looking you in the eye. “I shouldn’t have let you go. You’d be fine if I had just-“

           “Nope, you have no control over my actions, Dean. You never have and you never will. I made that decision, I’m living with the consequences. Besides, Styles and his crew will be going to jail, I’ll be out of the hospital quickly, and then you and I can discuss our… confessions.” You gave him a bright smile, squeezing his hand. “How about you go home, get some sleep, and then you can come visit me tomorrow. I’m beat and could go for a nap.”

           Dean stood up, bending over to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be back.”

           And true to his word, Dean came back, a bouquet of roses clutched in his hand. You thanked him with a smile, holding the flowers gently in your hands as he made himself as comfortable as he could in the bedside chair. You two would talk, him keeping you updated on everything going on. He kept you up-to-date on Styles and his goons, how they were facing a lot of charges, including murder, attempted murder of a police officer, and many others. They were looking at life sentences. It gave you peace of mind, knowing that they would be going to prison.

           Of course, when you were out of the hospital, you had to testify against the four men, which was stressful to say the least, slowing your healing and recovery time, but it was worth it to hear that they were going to jail and would be gone for a long time. During the entire trial period, Dean was with you, always doting and making sure you weren’t overexerting yourself with anything you did. Even when you returned to active duty almost two months later, he was at your side, making himself an easy target for gossip amongst the new recruits. Neither of you brought up your confessions, despite those around you practically seeing the tension between the two of you.

           A knock on your office door caught your attention as you filled out paperwork. “Come in!”

           “Captain.”

           You looked up to see none other than Roman Reigns, his long dark hair pulled back in a bun. “Roman, what can I do for you?”

           Roman shut the door, moving to sit in one of the armchairs across from you. “I need to speak with you about Ambrose, Captain.”

           Your brow furrowed immediately. “Why? Has something happened to him?”

           Roman shook his head. “No, he’s fine, don’t worry. He’s trying to get the printer working on the second floor. He’s kicked it more times than I can count. That might be why it was broken in the first place. Anyways,” he sighed, looking down at his hands before looking back at you, “everyone can see the way you two look at each other, everyone can feel the tension between you two, and we all think you two need to just…” He chuckled for a moment, a broad grin on his face. “We think you two need to bone.”

           Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wow, uh, that was blunt of you Roman.”

           “Sorry, Captain, but it needed to be said. You two keep dancing around one another and it’s getting ridiculous. You two need to just get it over with already. Everyone knows you’re in love with each other, you might as well go for it.”

           “Careful, Roman. You’re speaking a little out of line.”

           “I’m not saying it as an officer, or a SWAT leader, I’m saying it as a friend to you  _and_ Dean. You two are unhappy without each other. I’m just trying to give you a little push to get it over with.”

           It took you a minute to process what he said. “Have you spoken to Dean about this already?”

           The large man laughed. “Of course, I have. He’s as stubborn as you are, but you’re a little more willing to hear people out.” He stood up, lightly brushing off his jeans. “Just think about it, Captain. Have a good day.” He left your office with a casual salute as he went out the door.

           As soon as he was gone, you put your head in your hands. You weren’t sure how you felt knowing everyone could feel the tension you felt. You had thought you were subtle about it, but apparently you were not. You decided Roman was right. You and Dean danced around each other enough; it was time to act on your feelings. You couldn’t wait for work to end at this point, as soon as that clock hit eight you were out the door with your things, heading straight for your car so you could go to Dean’s. His house wasn’t far from the precinct, but you grew more and more anxious the closer you got to his house, parking in his driveway. You took a deep breath, hyping yourself up as best as you could before getting out of the car to go to his front door. With one hand raised to knock on the door, you took another deep breath and knocked.

           There was some cursing from farther in the house, followed by the sound of Dean walking towards the door. The door opened to a disgruntled Dean, but his angry expression changed to one of happiness, his smile bright and dimples on full display. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

           You froze for a moment, realizing what you were doing. You couldn’t stop yourself; your mouth was on his suddenly, his stubble scratching your chin and lips. You pulled away, but he followed you, his lips back on yours as he brought you close, his arms wrapping around you as he pressed his body against yours. He pulled you inside, kicking the door shut.

           He pulled away finally, allowing you to breathe. He was breathing heavily, a soft smile on his face. “Wow, you really do get to the point, darlin’.” His voice was soft when he spoke, his blue eyes searching yours as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, you know? I’m just happy I didn’t have to make the first move.”

           You could only smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Then kiss me.”

           “Happily.” He pressed his mouth over yours, his hands sliding to your ass. He gave an appreciative squeeze before lifting you with ease, moving to sit on his couch, you on top of his with your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed his breath away. He moaned into your mouth, gasping when you pulled away. “You’re going to be the death of me, kissing me like that.”

           You smirked a bit. “Am I?” You leaned down, pressing kisses down his neck to the edge of his tank top. You tugged at the hem of it, watching with delight as he yanked it over his head, showing his lean, muscled physique. You couldn’t help touching him, your hands mapping out the lines and planes of his torso. He curled his fingers in the front of your button up, ripping it open, buttons scattering everywhere. You squeaked in surprise. “Dean, what-“

           His mouth was on your neck, nipping and biting at your skin. He was impatient, pushing your shirt from your shoulders, his hands everywhere he could reach. His fingers couldn’t seem to get your bra undone, making you laugh and him growl. You helped him out, unhooking it in the back. “God, look at you.” He tugged at your nipples, grinning when you moaned loudly, your head falling back as he tormented your breasts. He was moaning and groaning, his hands roaming over your back, sucking at your breasts. “Fuck,” he whispered, pulling from you. “I can’t get enough of you.”

           “Is that good or bad?” you asked.

           “Good, so fucking good.” He moved you off his lap, making you stand in front of him. He unbuttoned your slacks, sticking his tongue out as he pulled your zipper down. “Is this alright?”

           You nodded, running your hands through his shaggy hair. He tugged your pants and panties down, groaning loudly when he saw that you were practically dripping with want. You dropped to your knees in front of him. You tugged at his sweats until he helped you get them off, his cock resting hot and heavy on his stomach. You wrapped your hand around him, leaning forward to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He grunted, gently pushing your hair back form your face as you sucked, hollowing your cheeks as you did. You couldn’t help moaning around his dick, closing your eyes as he hit the back of your throat. He moaned loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure. He pulled you off his cock, grabbing you by the shoulders to bring you back onto his lap, your pussy hovering over his cock. A smirk grew on his face as he slid his fingers over your pussy, swirling a single finger around your clit, making you moan loudly, your thighs trembling. He held one of your hips, steadying you as you lowered yourself onto his waiting cock.

           “Oh god, look at you take every inch of me. Does it feel good, darlin’? Am I fillin’ you up good?” He leaned forward, nipping a tour breast. “Tell me.”

           “So good, Dean,” you breathed out, circling your hips against his. “God, been waiting so long to do this with you. Please.”

           He gave you a smack on your ass, a moan escaping you. “I’ll give you what you want, darlin’.” He took hold of your hips, holding you steady as he started to fuck up into you, one hand trailing across your stomach to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit. You gasped, your hands finding his hair, tugging on it as he played with your clit, a smirk on his face. “Go ahead, baby, I can feel you clenching down on me. Let go, come for me.” He pressed down hard on your clit, your orgasm catching you off guard as you trembled and screamed his name, going limp, shaking with aftershocks. Dean kissed your shoulder, chasing his own orgasm for a few more thrusts, emptying into you once he did, his cock practically pulsing inside of you. You whimpered, your pussy sensitive.

           You two stayed like that for a couple minutes, catching your breath as he softened inside of you. You felt tired, pressing your face into his neck. Dean stood on shaking legs, managing to carry you back to his bedroom, laying you down so he could clean you up. Once he was done, he came to lay in bed with you, pressing his chest to your back.

           “I love you, Dean,” you mumbled, eyes growing heavy with sleep.

           “I love you, too. Sleep well,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder.


End file.
